


The Unending Kindness and Patience of Dave Katz

by PickledBeef



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blood, Dave is patient and kind, Dave works at the VA, Developing Relationship, Domestic Violence, Graphic, Head trauma, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Klaus cuts his hair off, Klaus is injured, Lots of Angst, M/M, Mentions of Dubcon, Mentions of Prostitution, Slow Burn, Violence, Whump, and also freaked out, but it'll grow back don't worry, concussion, dubcon, mention of past noncon, trigger warning on the whole thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28459911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PickledBeef/pseuds/PickledBeef
Summary: Klaus has had a rough life full of drug addiction, abuse, prostitution, theft, and just about every other dubious thing he could think of. One day, he stumbles into the VA looking for help with a head wound and meets a man named Dave, whose unending patience and kindness melts Klaus's heart just a little bit, but also rings every suspicious alarm bell he's got. Who the hell was this guy?
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz
Comments: 17
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are definitely some descriptions of domestic violence, prostitution, dubious consent, drug addiction, blood, concussions, and some other angsty concepts, so if that's not your thing, click away! Don't worry though, things will improve in later chapters! It's not all going to be an angst-fest, we'll hit the fluff and maybe even some smut later.

Klaus had been in some bad situations and in the grand scheme of his life, this really wasn’t that bad—but it was bad enough. He was bleeding, he knew that, but it was somehow the least of his concerns. The wet, sticky feeling on the side of his face matting his hair down to his head felt hot and uncomfortable, sure, but the throbbing headache, nausea, dizziness, and pulsating pain shooting through his eye and cheekbone took more of his attention. Each thump of his heart sent a heavy shockwave of pain through his face like he was stuffed full of cotton that’d been set on fire.

He was too far from the hospital, not that he’d go there if he could help it. He didn’t have his phone, so calling for his good buddies in the ambulance was out. There was no way he was crawling back to the Academy for help. Allison was in California, Luther was on the moon, Diego had told him he didn’t want to see him anymore, Vanya was anxious enough as it was, Five had disappeared years ago and Ben, though at his side and nagging at him surely (Klaus couldn’t really make out the words past the throbbing sensation in his ears), he wouldn’t be able to do much to help, what with his being a ghost an all. That was everyone. There was nobody to turn to and Klaus was okay with that, really he was, because it meant fewer people to be disappointed when he showed up looking like he did now.

It was easier by far to prey on the kindness of strangers and it wasn’t that Klaus liked doing it, but it was easier—which is how he found himself here. It wasn’t a hospital, not exactly, but it was a medical clinic of some sort, though with the words ‘Veteran’s Affairs’ in bold on the front, it was unlikely to be the kind of clinic that could help patch a head wound—he was pretty sure they dealt more with brain wounds, but not the physical kind. The VA would probably turn him away since he wasn’t a veteran, but lots of veterans were homeless right? Maybe they’d see him as a kindred spirit. Maybe they’d take some pity on him. Maybe they’d at least give him an ice pack and verify that he’d be okay without stitches before sending him back out the door. It was worth a try—Klaus had hit ‘fuck it’ a while ago now.

He pushed on the door, leaving a bloodied handprint on the glass and stumbled over the threshold, managing to right himself with a few staccato steps and some precarious wobbling. He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes at some point until he blinked them open. The bright fluorescent lighting made him feel even more woozy and he blinked hard, trying to clear his blurry vision enough to get a handle on which way he should go.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to think that far because he felt a hand at his shoulder which made him jump a little. He blinked his eyes open—shit, had he closed them again?

“-‘lo? Can you hear me?” A voice was saying.

Klaus realized that someone must have been talking to him for awhile now because nobody opens a conversation with the words, ‘Can you hear me?’ He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled them open again, focusing despite the pounding in his head making him want to let himself go slack and drift off to somewhere, though he wasn’t sure where.

“Yes, ‘m hurt, not deaf,” He said, though his voice came out more mumbled than he’d intended which really was a tragedy, because it would have been so perfectly bitchy if he’d been able to put the proper emphasis on it.

The hand at his shoulder was guiding him somewhere, but Klaus wasn’t sure where. He wasn’t sure he really cared. He just stumbled along to where the hand guided him until his knees hit something solid and buckled. He slumped into a hard plastic chair with a soft ‘oomph’.

“Are you okay? What happened?” The voice asked, a little clearer now.

It was a nice voice, deep and lovely and Klaus opened his eyes again—Damn, he really needed to stop closing them, that was bad, right? The image in front of him swam a little for a moment and he squinted against the harsh overhead lights until the face came into focus. Oh. That nice voice belonged to an equally nice face and it was looking at him with concern. Oh yeah! He’d asked a question. That meant Klaus should answer.

“Peachy,” he said, internally celebrating a little that it’d come out properly sarcastic this time, “I got greedy.”

He knew that explanation was probably more confusing than anything, but it was the truth. Pete had been—well, not nice exactly, but he’d been okay, which is more than Klaus could say about the last few people he’d been in some way attached with. He should have known that it was a red flag though. Klaus didn’t get treated with that much patience and kindness—not that Pete was particularly patient or kind, but he was okay. Klaus had a place to crash and Pete shared his food with him and though he got angry sometimes, he’d never laid a hand on Klaus. Plus, he’d been well hooked up on the drug front.

But of course, the relative kindness had lulled Klaus into a sense of security and he felt more or less safe, safe enough at least. And then Klaus had been sneaking a few extra hits from Pete’s stash, beyond what Pete had offered to share, and then a little more, and then before Klaus had even realized it’d happened, he’d burned through his entire stash. Pete, being as bad an addict as Klaus, hadn’t been happy, that was for sure. It was always the kind ones who hit the hardest. Klaus had a theory that it was because they saved up all their rage for one big swing instead of lots of small ones and he was still on the fence about which was better.

Pete had punched him a few times—2? 3? He didn’t count—but then he’d stepped it up and grabbed a fistful of hair at the side of Klaus’s shaggy hair and slammed his head against the wall so hard that Klaus’s vision had flashed white and he’d lost track of where he was. He’d done that two or three times too before he pushed Klaus out the door.

“Hey, can you open your eyes? Look at me. Can you tell me your name?” The voice said.

Shit, again? Klaus opened his eyes and blinked until the man was in focus. He looked at him like he’d requested, trying to focus on those wide, impossibly blue eyes hoping it’d stop the spinning a little.  
“M’ name’s Klaus.” He answered tiredly.

The man’s expression shifted a little. He looked a little relieved, but judging by the concern that remained there, the creases between the pretty man’s brows, he figured he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

“Okay. Okay, good. Klaus, my name is Dave.”

Dave. Dave was a nice name. It was a nice name and a nice face and a nice voice and so far, he was being nice. That’s what he thought of Dave, Dave was nice.

“Can you tell me that date? Do you know where you are?” Dave asked.

Klaus thought about it and shook his head. It wasn’t totally the truth—he knew he was at the VA, he remembered walking in, but honestly he didn’t remember most of the walk here and he had no idea what the date was. Maybe he would have been able to remember if he could try hard enough, but his own mind felt fuzzy and far away and Klaus was too tired to try.

“Shit,” the voice said.

Klaus agreed. It was pretty shit. Clearly he wasn’t passing whatever test this man was giving him. The man spoke again and Klaus didn’t catch most of what he said, but he heard the word ‘hospital’ in there, and it made his heart beat faster and ouch, that hurt more, that sucked, it made him feel dizzy and sick. He shook his head, but the movement made his stomach roll and before he could figure out what was happening, he pitched forward, thankfully caught by quick hands on his shoulders before he could tumble forward onto his face.

His stomach revolted and he heaved, but nothing came up. He wasn’t sure when he last ate, it’d been awhile. He gagged and the feeling made his head pound so hard that he was sure he was dying. He was probably bleeding out inside his head, right? It hurt bad enough. He squeezed his eyes shut and an utterly pitiful whimper escaped him.

He could vaguely hear voices, Dave’s again but also some other unfamiliar ones. It didn’t matter though, he was done listening and talking. Everything was focused down into the pain and utter dizziness happening in his head and he let himself slump tiredly, not much caring if Dave caught him or not. He didn’t mind if he ended up on the ground. The ground would hold still and let him relax. He was so tired.

“Klaus? Klaus, hey. Stay awake, stay with me,” the nice voice said, much too loud and much too close to Klaus’s ear.

It set a shooting pain through his head and down his spine that was white hot and he shrank away from it, into the nice feeling that was vaguely in front of him. He mumbled a whiny ‘ouch’ and turned his head into whatever the soft warm spot was under his face. It took him a moment to realize it was a shoulder. He’d slumped and Dave had caught him against his shoulder.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. You need to stay awake,” The voice said, less frantic, more kind, more quiet.

Klaus shook his head weakly, which was a bad idea because it made his stomach roll, but he managed to resist the urge to vomit.

“Hurts. Tired.” He murmured, voice quiet and uncharacteristically soft.

A strong hand rubbed his back in long, firm strokes, probably trying to keep him awake as much as it was trying to comfort him, but it wasn’t working. Klaus was exhausted down to his bones. Everything was too loud and too bright and too spinny and he couldn’t hold it together anymore. He couldn’t hold on any longer. He thought about nothing, mind floating as the hand rubbing his back pulled and he got the sense of movement, but beyond that, he wasn’t sure what was going on.

He came out of the deep, dark fog of sedated sleep becoming aware of a rhythmic beeping sound first. The next thing he registered was pain and he squeezed his eyes shut tighter, wanting to sink back to where he was coming back from. The sleep wasn’t taking him though. He let out a sigh and winced, blinking once before squeezing his eyes shut again with a hiss of pain.

It was loud in here too. There were so many voices, crying and screaming and sobbing and begging and calling his name. There were voices in other languages babbling things Klaus didn’t recognize and gurgling, slick sounds that he knew by now meant some sort of viscera or guts. It was the sound of a ghost dragging his intestines behind him or continually bleeding out. They kept saying his name. Klaus, Klaus, Klaus.

“Klaus?” Another voice said his name, but this one rung the little bell of recognition in his head that could separate the sounds that came from beyond the veil from the sounds that came from his own realm.

“Lights,” he croaked in response—it was a lame response, granted, but he wouldn’t be able to open his eyes long enough to even see who was talking to him until someone took care of the blazing lights that had his eyelids glowing an angry red.

There were a few beats of quiet—well, not quiet, but no sounds that registered to Klaus’s mind as being in his own world—and then his eyelids went blissfully dark.

He sighed in relief, face relaxing a little before he blinked his eyes open. There was a small window in the room and the light from it, despite being a purplish, twilight color, was still painful, but it was bearable. He looked around for the source of the voice before it landed on the person in the chair beside him.

Oh. It was the nice person with the nice voice. Dave. His memory was a little spotty, but he remembered the name Dave and blue eyes and warmth under his cheek. He smiled despite the sore pain that ached in his cheek and around his eyes when he did so.

“Hey, ‘s you,” he said breathily, “Dave,” he said, wanting to prove that he knew who he was, that he remembered, that he wasn’t quite as brain-dead as he must have been before.

Dave’s face relaxed into something that looked like relief and that made Klaus want to smile a little more but it hurt, so he relaxed his face again.

“Yeah, Dave. Exactly. You scared me, man. How do you feel?” Dave asked, sitting up a little more.

It didn’t go unnoticed that Dave’s gaze kept flickering to the side of Klaus’s head and Klaus remembered what had happened. He remembered a fist wrapped in his hair on the other side of his head and he remembered an explosion of pain that made his vision go white. He shoved the memory out of his head, not liking the tight knot that coiled in his stomach at the flash of Pete’s face, beet red and twisted in fury.

“Peachy keen, handsome,” he said, though he was so obviously far from okay that it was almost comical.

Dave shook his head, though a little smile quirked the edge of his lips. Sarcasm was probably a pretty good indicator of health right? If Klaus could be sarcastic, he would be just fine. He did need to start figuring out how he was going to get out of here before any other nurses or doctors came in though. He didn’t want to face questions about who he was or what had happened or whether or not he had insurance. He’d skirted many a medical bill and today would be no different.

“Do you remember what happened?” Dave asked.

Klaus’s eyes flickered with a brief flash of fear, the image of Pete’s face and the wall coming at him invading his mind again before he could push it away. Fuck, he was getting dangerously sober and he really needed something to take the edge off. He could feel the odd shaky rush in his hands, the weak twitch in his muscles that signaled the beginning of withdrawal. Shit, how long had it been? It couldn’t haven’t been more than an hour or two, right? Klaus hardly felt well rested. He pushed himself up, head spinning the second he lifted it off the pillow. He grunted and forced his upper half up off the bed that was thankfully raised up to make the motion a little easier. He got his weight settled over his spine and his hips just as Dave’s hands landed on his shoulders and begin guiding him back down. Klaus made an indignant noise, trying to struggle against him to stay upright, but Dave was strong and Klaus was very weak right now and he stood no chance at all.

“Hey, stop, just lay back and rest for a minute, huh? You hit your head pretty hard, it looks like.” Dave was saying.

Klaus’s hands pushed uselessly at Dave’s wrists for a moment, but he gave up with a huff. He was too tired to fight with him and he needed his energy for his escape. He let his arms fall back to the bed, signaling his defeat.

“Do you know what happened?” Dave asked again, withdrawing his hands from Klaus’s shoulders slowly, like he was ready to catch Klaus and force him back down if he tried to get up again.

Klaus’s eyes fell from Dave’s face to his shoulder. The entire shoulder and chest of his shirt was stained brownish red, starkly in contrast to the soft blue color of the rest of his shirt. For a moment, Klaus wondered if he was ghost, but no, he’d touched Klaus. He realized belatedly that it must be his own blood and woah. That was a lot more blood than he would have expected. He reached up to touch his head and his fingers danced along a puckered line of skin held together with stitches that stretched from his temple to somewhere behind his ear along the side of head.

Dave nodded as he watched Klaus connect the bloody shirt with the wound on his own head, “Yeah, it was pretty bad. You scared the shit out of me,” he said with a chuckle, sinking back down to sit in his chair.

Klaus swallowed heavily. No wonder Ben had been nagging him so much while he walked. It was worse than he’d thought it was.

“Sorry about your shirt. I’d offer to buy you a new one, but I’m not going to,” he said, voice a little bitter and irritable.

What was this guy doing here anyway? It was nice or whatever that he’d come to the hospital with him and all, but he didn’t even know Klaus. He didn’t need to stay, especially since he obviously hadn’t even gone home to change or anything and judging by the number of stitches Klaus could feel on his head and the stiff way that the right side of Dave’s shirt moved, he’d been here longer than he realized. Was he looking to get Klaus to replace his shirt? Because he was broke and if he did come into some money, it wasn’t going to a stupid shirt. He’d buy some drugs, hopefully enough to appease Pete enough that he’d let him stay a few more days, just until Klaus was strong enough to go back out on his own.

Dave shook his head with a laugh and held his hand up, “No, no. Don’t worry about the shirt, it was ugly anyway,” he said.

It wasn’t ugly—a little dorky, maybe, but it fit Dave nicely and he remembered the material being soft under his cheek. He looked at Dave like he was trying to figure him out. People didn’t stay with him, not even when he was hurt. His own family had all requested to be taken off of Klaus’s emergency contact list. They didn’t come when he OD’ed. They didn’t come when he got hurt. Klaus had crawled to Diego’s gym the last time he was hurt and he’d tossed an ice pack and a fistful of bandaids to him, most of which scattered on the street, and told him that he couldn’t watch Klaus kill himself anymore.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Dave asked curiously, eyebrow quirked.

Klaus schooled his expression and shrugged, looking down at his hands.

“Nothing,” he said, taking a breath, “Well, it was nice to meet you and it was nice of you to stay and all that, but I’m fine. You can go.”

Dave’s expression fell a little. He looked almost...disappointed? Klaus could see him fidget, glancing to Klaus and then the door, then back to Klaus. Why did this look like a difficult decision?

“Nobody else has come,” he said, tiptoeing like it was a delicate conversation and that had Klaus’s eyebrows creasing in confusion, “Come looking for you, I mean. Is there someone I should call for you?”

Klaus just gave him a tight smile and shook his head, “Nope. Though if you want to do my a solid and check some of those drawers over there for scissors of some sort, that’d really help me out.”

Dave’s face fell into a combination of concern and confusion and Jesus, he was cute when he was confused. Klaus would think it was charming if he wasn’t actively trying to get rid of this guy. He was being perfectly nice and all that, but that was the issue. Klaus wasn’t accustomed to kindness, not from strangers that had no reason to be so nice to him, not from people who weren’t paid to be somewhat pleasant. He didn’t like being a charity case or a pity party and he didn’t like the squirmy discomfort of not knowing when the other shoe was going to drop.

“Scissors?” Dave asked, sucking in a breath of air. “Hey, look, I know things can be hard but there are programs out there—I can recommend a few groups that are really helpful—“

Klaus interrupted him with a barked out laugh that sent a bolt of pain through his head, “Oh my God, you dork. That’s sweet, but I’m not trying to kill myself. If I was, I’d find a more efficient way than with scissors,” he pointed out, still chuckling.

Dave, bless his sweet heart, just looked more confused, “Then why?”

Klaus made a shooing motion with his hand toward the drawers until Dave got up and began to look, all the while looking completely lost on why he was even doing what Klaus asked. Dave lifted a pair of shears, the kind that ambulance workers used to cut clothes away from wounds and turned toward Klaus, who nodded in approval. He approached cautiously and held the shears out to Klaus, watching him carefully like he was going to jump right back in and take them away from him at the first sign of trouble.

“Why do you need them?” He asked again.

Klaus just took the scissors and lifted them to his head, grabbing a tuft of his hair and gracelessly chopping the lock of hair off.

“What are you doing?!” Dave asked, stepping in to grab Klaus’s wrists to stop him, eyes wide and bewildered as he looked at Klaus’s face.

“Making sure this doesn’t happen again!” Klaus said sharply, voice louder than he meant for it to be.

Dave flinched, but stayed where he was. It took time for Dave’s face to shift into one of recognition and Klaus waited patiently, breathing hard while irritation bristled under his skin. He wasn’t usually this quick to anger, but his head hurt and he was beginning to feel a little panicky and the snap had just come out. When Dave’s face moved from recognition into horror and sadness, Klaus had to drop his gaze. He hated that look, that pitying expression. Dave’s hand slipped away from Klaus’s wrists to fall helplessly by his sides and Klaus took the opportunity to hack off another curl, dropping it off the side of the bed.

“Wait, wait. Stop, don’t use these,” Dave said, stopping Klaus’s hands again.

Klaus growled in response.

“I just mean—Let me get some clippers and do it right, don’t just hack away with clothing shears.” Dave said, eyes fixed on Klaus’s with a decisiveness that surprised him.

Klaus wasn’t expecting that response and his arms went a little slack in Dave’s grip. Dave took the opportunity to gently pull Klaus’s hands away from his head, taking the shears from him and dropping them unceremoniously on the side table, shifting both of Klaus’s wrists into one of his big hands while he did so. After the shears were disposed of, he brought his hand back to hold one of Klaus’s wrists in each hand, touch unbelievably gentle as he lowered Klaus’s slack hands back to the bed. Klaus just stared at him as bewildered as Dave had looked when he’d cut his hair.

Who the hell was this guy?


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus had figured out three more important things about Dave by the time he’d made it out the front doors of the hospital: 
> 
> 1\. He was very trusting—naively so.   
> 2\. He was surprisingly difficult to ruffle.  
> 3\. He was really fucking beautiful.

Klaus had figured out three more important things about Dave by the time he’d made it out the front doors of the hospital: 

1\. He was very trusting—naively so. 

After Dave suggested that Klaus should let Dave cut his hair for him, he’d gone on to further suggest that he come to his house for him to do this. Klaus. Klaus, who’d come stumbling into his arms with a head wound and had taken scissors to his head within five minutes of waking up. Klaus, who had only been half dressed and shoeless. Klaus, with track marks all up and down his arms. Klaus, who had hissed at Ben, who was very much invisible to anyone but him, right in front of Dave. 

Dave had also left Klaus alone in the room while he went to get a nurse, figuring that Klaus would stay put and stay laying down like he asked him to (he hadn’t). Before Dave could come back from getting a nurse, Klaus was up on his feet and stumbling out of the room. He snuck quickly down the hall, managing to make his way almost entirely to the front doors before, to his utter bad luck, he ran quite literally into fucking DAVE. He’d caught Klaus and asked him why he was out of bed, and when Klaus told him he needed to go, Dave had just nodded and followed him outside. 

2\. He was surprisingly difficult to ruffle. 

Dave hadn’t even asked why Klaus wanted to leave so bad. He’d just looked at Klaus and his wide, panicky eyes and took his elbow like there was nothing weird about any of this and helped guide him outside. He hadn’t gotten defensive when Klaus had snapped at him earlier, he hadn’t seemed too terribly weirded out by Klaus’s hair cutting stunt or the way his eyes drifted to seemingly empty spots in the room.

3\. He was really fucking beautiful. 

Dave’s expression had been surprised when he caught Klaus by the biceps as they ran into each other, big blue eyes looking into Klaus’s own. He’d smiled at him with dazzling white teeth, he let Klaus hold his strong arm for support as he led him outside and while Klaus had more pressing priorities than a hot guy helping him like an obedient service dog, he wasn’t blind, okay? 

Now that he’d made his not so sneaky escape from the hospital, his energy was waning quickly. He kept his arm wrapped around Dave’s for support until Dave led him toward a bench to rest. He must have noticed Klaus’s sagging shoulders and labored breathing. While Klaus felt an instinct to do something to resist the kindness he was being shown, he was once again tired and Dave seemed nice and though he knew he shouldn’t trust him, he didn’t feel like he had much fight in him. 

“Okay. So, can you tell me why we needed to get out of there so bad?” Dave asked, voice so stupidly, perfectly patient that Klaus looked at him like he suspected he might actually be an alien under all that perfect skin. 

Klaus blew out a breath and leaned back against against the cool concrete, eyes shifting nervously to the doors of the hospital. 

“Because I don’t have health insurance and if they figure out who I am, they’ll call my emergency contact who I was supposed to remove but I haven’t exactly gotten around to that yet,” he said honestly, “Plus, I really hate hospitals.”

He didn’t snark or joke or use any of his usual defenses to skirt around the truth. Maybe Dave would try to march him right back inside, but either way, he wasn’t in much of a position to fight if Dave wanted to take him anywhere right now. 

Dave nodded slowly, “Okay. I can understand that. The doctors said that you had a pretty good concussion, but beyond that and the stitches, you’re probably okay. I’m sure they would want to check you out one more time before you leave, but that’s your choice.”

Klaus knew Dave was right—the doctors would check him again and take forever doing it and making him suffer in there for hours until they finally signed discharge forms and that’s assuming they’d let him leave without paying or at least giving a name so they could bill him later. Klaus shook his head. Concussions could be treated at home—they sucked, he remembered a particularly nasty one Diego had gotten after a mission gone wrong as kids, but it’d been fine to handle at home. 

“No, I just need to get rid of this hair,” He said, leaning forward.

The shakes were setting in, making his hands tremble. He pressed them between his knees in an effort to still them. His spine and shoulders and hips ached in a bone-deep sort of way. Okay, so he needed to get rid of his hair and get a pretty good-sized score, one big enough to stave off his withdrawal with enough leftover to offer to Pete as a means to get back inside. Where was he going to find that though? He was half-dressed and most of his belongings were back at Pete’s. He had no money, no nothing, nothing worth trading except for himself, which he didn’t anticipate being easy considering the freshly stitched gash along the side of his head and the dried blood along his face and torso.

Okay, so he needed to cut his hair, take a shower, and then figure out a way to get money that didn’t involve prostitution. He couldn’t trust people not to be too rough with him right now, not when he was too weak to defend himself or endure much rough-housing. He was in so much pain that he was pretty sure he wasn’t even capable of getting it up right now, not that it was really a requirement. Still. Prostitution was probably out.

He saw the sun barely glimmering above the horizon, signaling the last of the daylight hours. Once he had managed to get his hair short enough and maybe even had talked Dave into letting him take a shower, that still left him on his own in the streets in the middle of the night. By the time he managed to steal something, the pawn shops would be closed. Dealers weren’t usually too keen on trades that didn’t involve sexual favors, so he wouldn’t be able to trade up until morning, which means that he didn’t have anywhere to go tonight. Shit, he’d be sleeping outside. He should have grabbed one of those hospital blankets on his way out, or at least a towel, something.

This was all making his brain hurt, trying to figure out how he was going to get through the night and it made him feel frustrated and angry and desperate. He kept his eyes down on his hand where they were pressed between his knees. He didn’t realized he was crying out of frustration until a fat, hot tear landed on his wrist. 

“Alright then, I’ll help you get it cut. Come on,” Dave said patiently, standing and offering his hands to Klaus. 

Klaus swiped quickly at his eyes and took Dave’s hands, grunting as he was hauled up to his feet, very carefully not meeting Dave’s eyes. He’d probably noticed his tears, but Klaus was hoping he’d do the macho, polite thing and let them mutually pretend the tears weren’t happening. 

“Shit. Hey, it’s okay.” Well fuck, no such luck. 

Klaus pulled his hands out of Dave’s grip and turned more bodily away from him, signaling that he really was not wanting to talk about it. He took off walking, steps smaller than usual, feeling stiff and woozy and to be honest, he had no idea what direction he was stumbling off into. Dave was back at his elbow after a few paces, touching with just his fingertips, more hesitant after Klaus had torn his hands from Dave’s. 

“Okay, hey. Come on, this way.” Dave said, nodding his head in the opposite direction. 

Klaus stopped and let out an irritated breath, but turned and walked in the direction Dave was indicating. 

“You don’t even know where he’s taking you Klaus. You need to call Diego.” Ben said at Klaus’s side. 

Klaus wasn’t having this argument again. He swung a hand weakly in the direction of the voice, ‘shh’-ing harshly and waving Ben off. He was too tired to deal with Diego’s shit, too tired to try to do any of this himself, too tired to care if Dave drugged him or held him down or tied him up or killed him, he was just too tired. The thought of having to go through so much tonight, sleeping outside, having to figure out what to steal and then actually successfully stealing said thing, pawning it, finding a dealer, and getting back to Pete’s while concussed and also beginning withdrawals sounded like Hell so he didn’t care what Dave did to him. It couldn’t be worse, could it? 

Dave led him into the parking garage and Klaus followed, having to remind himself periodically to keep his eyes open. Before Klaus knew it, he was standing in front of a car and Dave was opening a door for him. He wasn’t sure that he remembered the entire walk over. He let muscle memory take over, the familiar motion of lifting one leg into the car and leaning down to sit being executed, but he manage to smack his forehead on the frame of the car before he made it in. Klaus gasped in pain, both hands flying to press against his forehead as shooting heat seared through his head accompanied by a throbbing ache that felt like it might burst through his skull. His knees buckled instantly and he went down. 

He was caught just before hitting the ground by Dave’s arms under his armpits. The jolt from the catch alone sent another wave of pain through Klaus’s head and he nearly dry-heaved, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of the dizziness, the withdrawal, or the pain. 

“Woah, woah, careful. I’m sorry, here. Let me help,” Dave said, voice gentle. 

Klaus didn’t fight, he was boneless as he let Dave guide him into the car, with Dave taking more of his weight than was probably fair. He kept his eyes squeezed close and curled up in the seat. He was vaguely aware of tears on his cheeks, so he pressed both palms over his eyes, hiding his face against his knees as he breathed through the pain. It took another moment to register that Dave’s hand was on his calf, thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles there. 

“Are you okay?” Dave asked softly. 

Klaus sniffled and wiped his face before he opened tired eyes and looked at him, nodding minutely. 

“Yeah. Just hurts,” he breathed. 

Dave nodded and let go of Klaus’s leg, standing up from where he’d been crouched and though it was ridiculous and a testament to how messed up Klaus must be, he missed the touch. It had been kind and comforting and it wasn’t the kind of touch he often received. 

Dave only moved a little though, opening the back door to reach in and grab something before returning to crouch beside Klaus. He shook out a warm, flannel-lined denim jacket and draped it over Klaus’s bare torso, tucking it up under his chin. Klaus just curled into it, pulling his bare feet up onto the seat to tuck under the coat too, feeling the ache in his spine that told him that the chills would be starting soon. He closed his eyes and tucked his face down into the collar, noting the scent. It was warm and soft and comforting and delicious and it made Klaus sigh in relief, snuggling in further. He was more comfortable than he’d remembered being in a long time. 

“Thanks, Dave,” Klaus breathed. 

He felt a hand ruffle his hair gently and then something wrap around him and click—a seatbelt, he realized—and then the door closed, the sound making Klaus whimper. Dave got in the driver’s seat and closed his door, again making Klaus stiffen and grunt. The car was started and then they were moving, which was awful, absolutely nauseatingly awful, but Dave turned the heater on and that felt nice and it’d grown dark out, so that was nice too. 

He did his best to let his thoughts be lulled by the movement of the car, breathing in the scent at the collar of Dave’s jacket. He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he was being woken by a hand on his knee. He jerked, opening his eyes blearily under the wash of the car’s interior lights. His eyes found Dave and he relaxed a little. 

“Sorry. We’re here, you doing okay?” Dave asked, voice gentle and patient as he removed his hand from Klaus’s knee. 

Klaus nodded at first, but then felt a rolling sensation in his stomach and jolted a little, hands scrabbling for the seatbelt. He quickly amended his reaction into a shake of his head, a little too frantic, which hurt his head all over again and sent bile rising up his throat. It took two tries to get the belt unbuckled. 

“Gonna be sick,” he breathed, scrambling out of the car like a baby deer on ice, thankfully caught by Dave. 

Dave helped him to his feet and led him quickly the two steps to the grass just in time for Klaus to heave. His knees buckled, but Dave caught him yet again with an arm around his waist, supporting his weight. The press of the arm against his abdomen only made him heave again, harder this time. There wasn’t really anything in his stomach, but he spit out whatever stomach acid had risen, breathing hard through the spinning sensation that followed. 

“F-fuck. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Dave,” he said, voice quivering.

“No, no need to apologize. It’s okay. Are you alright? Let’s get you upstairs and I’ll get you some water,” Dave said patiently—always so patient. 

Klaus nodded, feeling a little more settled—still shaky and a bit nauseous and dizzy, but he didn’t think he was going to throw up again. Dave let Klaus go when he seemed confident Klaus could hold his own weight, returning to the car to close the door before coming back to Klaus’s side. 

“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” Dave said kindly, placing his hand against Klaus’s elbow in a gesture that was quickly becoming familiar.


End file.
